Almost the whole of Europe had indulged in objectionable comment on the subject of the campaign, and treated us to naked truths that, though unpalatable, were useful as an excellent opportunity to see ourselves as others see us, and correct a somewhat overweening passion for resting on British-grown laurels. But however good as a tonic the cosmopolitan criticism may have been, it was distinctly ill-timed and decidedly ungrateful. Our sneering foes should have patted us on the back, have applauded us. They might even have subscribed to help us to do the hard work of Europe, for, as the Norwegian showed, we were not fighting the Boer alone, but were attacking thousands of his mercenaries--the scum of Europe. We were scouring a veritable Augean stable. Ne'er-do-weels of every nationality were congregated under the Transvaal flag--vagabonds, for the most part, who had made their own country too hot to hold them, and who hoped by promoting a general upheaval to come down on their feet safely--somehow, somewhere! Fortunately Lord Roberts' masterly combinations had rapidly brought about a general disillusionment, and served to prove to our critical neighbours that our martial race--from officers to the most raw and fledgling "Tommies"--was the same race as of yore, "game for anything," even when the thing might range between and include shot and shell, sickness and starvation! The object-lesson was a grand one, and could not pass unrecognised. For us the sad part of it was that the flower of our country, the valiant sons of brave men and the noble descendants of kings, should have had to risk their lives against such a mob of adventurers and filibusters, creatures who were actuated by none of the finer and natural impulses of the Boers to secure their independence, but flung themselves into the fight merely because the spirit of ruffianism which had driven them from their native soils was too rampant to be appeased by any other exercise. But there is no achievement without sadness--no success without pain. Lives must ever be sacrificed to maintain any great nation's prestige, and now how much more noble seemed the sacrifice when it secured the prestige of a Power that had propagated equality and civilisation over the whole face of the world! [Illustration: THE BRITISH OCCUPATION OF BLOEMFONTEIN--AN EVENING CONCERT IN MARKET SQUARE BY THE PIPERS OF THE HIGHLAND BRIGADE. Drawing by A. Forestier.]